of Rén. This was formerly a considerable place, but it is now almost
deserted, and the wall has fallen to ruins; the aspect of the place,
however, is very picturesque,—beautiful and wide-spreading fig-trees
shading the ruins of high, well-built clay houses. My quarters were
better than I had expected,—an excellently-built hut, provided with all
the comfort which such a building is capable of affording; but the
comfortable repose which the neat appearance of my hut promised me was
greatly disturbed by swarms of mosquitoes, that owe their existence to a
large swamp at the northern side of the wall. The town of Rén was
formerly the centre of a petty kingdom, but it is at present reduced to
utter ruin. Its inhabitants have a peculiar dialect of their own. But
although the governor was very eloquent in his description of the misery
to which his people were at present reduced, yet he treated me very
hospitably.
[Sidenote: March 10th.]
Leaving the swamp abovementioned on one side, we pursued our march
through a fertile and well-inhabited district full of open hamlets,
while the corn-fields were enlivened with numbers of kórna-trees, at
present laden with fruit. I was pleased to see that the inhabitants of
this district follow the same custom as the Músgu people, storing their
provision of herbage for the dry season on the branches of the trees.
All the inhabitants are Arabs, and belong to the tribe called Welád
Megébel, whose chief is called Ísa Áshe; the name of the district is
Ránganá. At a considerable distance towards the south there is a walled
town called Déma, belonging to the sheikh Abba. The Arabs are either
cattle-breeders or corn-growers; but further on we saw some cotton under
cultivation, after which we again entered upon fírki ground, where my
companion called my attention to a new variety of grass called “útutú,”
the seeds of which, besides the kréb above-mentioned, constitute a great
part of the food of the poorer people of this district.
Dense rows of fine tamarind-trees indicated the neighbourhood of a
watercourse, which even at present was of some importance, being about
35 yards broad, and 3 feet 9 inches in depth, but without a perceptible
current; a small canoe, however, lying on its border, justified the
opinion that occasionally it is not fordable, of which I myself received
a proof on my return-journey, when I crossed it lower down, near Legári.
This watercourse, which in the rainy season conveys towards the lake a
considerable quantity of water, is called Komádugu Lebé. There was
formerly a considerable town, called Suló, on the other side of the
watercourse; but this at present is deserted, and its ruins are
overgrown by thick forest. A little distance further on, the site of
another ancient town testified to the former importance of this
district. We were now approaching the largest town of Kótokó; but
scarcely any signs of industry were to be seen, with the exception of a
young plantation of cotton, and thick forest approached close to the
wall of the town, which is very extensive, but fast falling to ruins.
The whole interior of the town of Áfadé is one vast heap of rubbish,
from which only here and there a building in tolerable repair starts
forth, the greatest ornament of the place at present being a most
magnificent fig-tree of the species called “búske,” identical, I think,
with the tree called duwé by the Arabs near Timbúktu. I scarcely
remember ever to have seen such a noble and luxuriant specimen of this
family of the vegetable kingdom. Spreading its vast impenetrable canopy
of the freshest and most beautiful green over a great part of the square
in front of the lofty ruins of the governor’s palace, it formed the
chief lounging-place or “fagé” for the idle loiterers in this once
industrious and wealthy town.
My quarters, in the upper story of a house, were very tolerable, and,
besides being airy, afforded me a view over the nearest part of the
town, from whence I had an opportunity of admiring the excellent quality
of the clay with which these houses are built. Clay, indeed, seems to
have entirely excluded, in ancient times, from the country of Kótokó the
lighter buildings of reed and straw; and I observed that even many of
the round huts were of considerable elevation, being furnished with a
roof of clay, which formed a neat terrace surrounded by a low parapet.
There seems to have been a considerable degree of civilization in former
times in this little kingdom of Kótokó, or rather in this group of
distinct principalities, the independent character of which is clearly
shown by the great diversity of its dialects, which vary with every
large town: viz. Klésem, Gulfé and Kúsuri, Mákari and Máfaté, Áfadé,
Rén, and Ngála. When we consider that this country is not mentioned
among the list of the Negro countries by Ébn Sʿaíd (A.D. 1283) which is
preserved by Ébn Khaldún[23], where even the Kúrí are not forgotten,
while it is evidently mentioned by Makrízi[24], it appears that it rose
into importance in the course of the 14th century. Although we are not
able to explain fully the circumstances under which this happened, we
may conclude that it was due in some degree to the struggle between the
two powerful dynasties of Bórnu and Bulála.
As for the dialect of Áfadé, of which I made a short vocabulary, it
appears to form a link between the idiom of the Yédiná[25], the
islanders of the Tsád, on the one side, and the Músgu people on the
other.
In the province of Áfadé a great proportion of the population consists
of Shúwa, principally of the tribes E’ Nejaíme, and Welád Abú Khodhaír.
The governor was absent just at the time, on a small expedition to
chastise some of these people, who are very unsettled in their habits,
and often refractory. Notwithstanding his absence, however, we were very
hospitably treated, our supper consisting, besides a sheep, and numerous
bowls of Negro corn, of a dish of well-dressed fish, very palatable,
from the river Lebé; there was likewise no scarcity of milk.
[Sidenote: March 11th.]
It would certainly have been very interesting to have made a few days’
stay here, in order to obtain a clearer insight into the peculiar
characteristics of this province; but as the more distant object of my
enterprise did not allow of a longer delay, I pursued my march. All
these towns are very inconvenient for travellers, their gates not being
large enough for loaded camels to pass through. When we had reached the
great road, where the forest is interrupted by a little cultivation of
cotton, I saw two beautiful specimens of that species of antelope which
is here called “tigdim,” of grey colour and very low in body; I think it
is identical with, or nearly related to, the _Antilope annulipes_.
This was the only time I observed this species of antelope during my
travels in Negroland. Great numbers of Guinea fowl, such I had never
observed before, enlivened the underwood further on, the ground
consisting of a hard soil called by the natives kabé, and covered with
only a scanty growth of stunted mimosas. I was much interested in
observing here the red species of Negro corn, which seems not to be
cultivated by the more civilized tribes of Negroland, but which forms
the principal food of the pagan races towards the south. Having passed a
Shúwa hamlet—berí Shúwabe,—the country became more diversified. A
considerable pond, at present dry, and bordered by beautiful trees,
spread out on our left, while our right was bordered by the ruins of a
large town called Sú, a name which seems to be a remnant of the ancient
tribe of the Só or Soy, which formerly ruled over the whole of this
region as far as Kála. A poor old woman, incapacitated by age from
reaching the market-town, was sitting in front of the ruined wall,
offering to the passers-by the little cotton which she had been able to
clean. The country is at present in such a state, principally owing to
the turbulent spirit of the Shúwa Arabs, that even this road is regarded
as unsafe; and we were therefore obliged to keep together, several
inhabitants of Logón having attached themselves to my little caravan.
The road divides here, the more considerable path leading to the town of
Kúsuri, and the smaller southern one, which we followed, leading to
Logón bírni, or Kárnak Lógone.
We passed two villages called Debábe Gezáwa and Debábe Ngáya, but the
latter of which still bears the very remarkable name of Krénik, and is
stated by the inhabitants of the neighbourhood to have been the capital,
or one of the capitals, of the once powerful tribe of the Soy. The exact
period when this town was destroyed I could not ascertain; but probably
it happened during the reign of the great Kanúri king Edrís Alawóma,
about the beginning of the seventeenth century. More recently this
neighbourhood was saturated with the blood of numbers of Bórnu people,
in the sanguinary struggle with their neighbours, the Bagírmi or
Bágrimma; and it was in one of these conflicts, near the walled town of
Míltam, about forty years ago (A.H. 1232), that the sheikh Mohammed el
Kánemí lost his eldest and most-beloved son.
Having watered our animals at a shallow stream, spreading out in the
meadow-ground, we continued our march, and about half an hour before
noon had to cross a very difficult swamp, with boggy ground, where
several of our people stuck fast. The whole of this region is subject to
partial inundations; but it seems very remarkable that they do not
attain their greatest height in, or at the end of, the rainy season, but
several months later; and I found afterwards, when I traversed this
country again towards the end of August, in the very height of the rainy
season, that not only this but the other swamps were considerably lower
than they were in March. This circumstance depends on the peculiar
nature of the Tsád, which reaches its highest level in November, when
all the waters carried down by the several rivers and torrents have
spread over the whole surface of the lagoon, while the loss from
evaporation is then much less than during the hot months.
Continuing through a very thick forest full of herds of wild hogs, which
seem greatly to delight in these low, swampy, and densely overgrown
grounds on either side of the (river) Shárí, and having passed another
swamp, and the forest at length clearing, we obtained a sight of the
high clay walls of the town of Kála, starting forth from a beautiful
grove of fig-trees, and overtowered by a very lofty, but slightly
inclined solitary palm-tree.
[Footnote 23: Ébn Khaldún, texte Arabe, vol. i. p. 200.; trad. S.
Macguckin de Slane, vol. ii. p. 116.]
[Footnote 24: Makrízi, in Hamaker, Spec. Catal. p. 206., كاتكوا.]
[Footnote 25: I repeat here what I have stated, I think, in another
place, that in my opinion the Yédiná are meant by Makrízi’s اتعنا.]
CHAP. XLVII.
PROVINCE OF LOGÓN. — LOGÓN BÍRNI.
Kála is the first town of the territory of Logón or Lógone, the boundary
of which we had crossed a short time before. Having entered the town
through an extremely narrow gate, which scarcely allowed my bare and
slender she-camel to pass through, after having taken from her back the
whole load, I was struck with the very different aspect it exhibited
from the regions we had just left; for while the dwellings testified to
a certain degree of civilization, the inhabitants themselves seemed to
approach nearer to the pagans than to the Mohammedans. We had scarcely
entered the town when we were surrounded by a troop of boys and young
lads from seven to twelve years of age, tall and well built, and in a
state of entire nudity, a thing hardly ever seen in the country of
Bórnu, even with slaves. The type of their features, however, was very
different from the general type observed in the Bórnu people, and seemed
to indicate more intelligence and cunning. I have already observed, in
the country of Músgu, how the state of the dwellings contrasts with the
apparel, or rather the want of apparel, of the people themselves; but
here it seemed more remarkable, for the dwellings in general did not
consist of round conical huts, but of spacious oblong houses of clay, of
considerable elevation. I was quartered in one of these structures, but
found it rather close, and full of dust.
The town presented an appearance of the utmost decay, only a few
dwellings remaining in the centre of it; and the only remarkable objects
were two palm-trees, one of which I had already observed from without:
and I now assured myself that they were not date-trees, but belonged to
the fan-shaped group of palms. But they were not bifurcated, and seemed
not to belong to the _Cucifera Thebaïca_, nor were they identical with
the deléb-palm. At any rate they were the tallest specimens which I ever
remember to have seen of the fan-shaped tribe, their height appearing
more extraordinary on account of the small tuft of leaves, which was
confined to the very top. The town itself presenting no very interesting
features, I went out in the afternoon, and lay down for an hour or two,
in the shade of one of those beautiful fig-trees which, fed by a large
and deep swamp, surround the town on all sides; but, the more pleasant
was my day’s repose, the more disagreeable was my night’s rest, for,
owing to these stagnant pools, the town is full of mosquitoes, and
neither I myself nor any of my companions were able to get any sleep the
whole of the ensuing night.
We therefore rose very early in the following morning, long before day-
break, and at four o’clock had already left the gate of the town behind
us. There is still a great deal of cultivation of cotton to be seen,
even in the present state of decay to which this province is reduced;
but an immense deal more might be cultivated. Then followed fields of
sorghum; and further on, the lowing of cattle and the cackling of hens
indicated the presence of a Shúwa village at some distance on our left.
Cultivated ground and forest alternately succeeded each other, the wild
hog being seen in every direction, while numerous villages were lying
about here and there, but at present all deserted, the inhabitants, who
belong to the Shúwa, migrating during the dry season towards a large
shallow watercourse in the south-west, where they find fresher pasture-
grounds for their cattle. This watercourse or ngáljam is famous under
several names, being called Bawísh, Madéf, and Burbéde. We then passed
on our left the town Úlluf, Húlluf, or Hélib, surrounded by a high clay
wall, and almost hidden behind wide-spreading fig-trees, just as is the
case with Kála. This town, the name of which is pronounced “Elf” by the
Arabs, and of the origin of which they give very absurd accounts, is
ill-famed for the presumed witchcraft and sorcery of its inhabitants;
and this was the only reason which prevented my companions from staying
here during the heat of the day.
We therefore continued our march; and, having passed another swamp,
entered a well-cultivated district, where a great deal of sorghum was
grown. I was however surprised at seeing the stacks of grain, or, as
they are called in Kanúri, bágga argúmbe, still standing in the fields.
We encamped a little beyond the temporary village of Sheikh el Khasés,
close to an extensive sheet of water, under the shade of a beautiful
tamarind-tree. This piece of water, as the people assured me, only dries
up annually for a short time, when the rainy season again fills it. All
these native Arabs, as I have already had occasion to remark, are very
inhospitable; and the people here, where we had encamped, did not offer
us any refreshment. However I succeeded in buying from them a little
honey, for a few needles.
When we started again in the afternoon, we had great difficulty in
avoiding the swamps. The country at times was well cultivated,
producing, besides sorghum, a quantity of beans of the speckled kind;
but I was not a little astonished to see, in the midst of the stubble-
fields, young crops of that variety of sorghum called “másakuwá.” This
is a very rare sight in these countries in the month of March, as in
general this winter corn is got in during December or January. We then
entered a forest, and, following a winding path, reached the rather
considerable village Múnke, which belongs to Logón, but is inhabited
chiefly by Kanúri. Here I pitched my tent in the market-place, and was
not a little pestered by numbers of inquisitive people.
[Sidenote: Saturday, March 13th.]
The country through which we passed as we drew nearer the capital of
Logón, was of a rich and fertile character, but insufficiently
cultivated. Besides grain, there was a great deal of cotton; and numbers
of trees of various species gave it a charming appearance, the
beautifully rich foliage of several of them relieving entirely the
monotony which is usual in these Central African forests. Amongst the
underwood the dúm-bush was predominant; gradually, however, the “harás”
or “karáge” tree began to prevail. The pods of this tree, which contain
the seeds, are not only much liked by camels, but also by monkeys and
hogs, both of which seemed to be very numerous, and lived together in
the greatest harmony. Numerous holes of the earth-hog (_Orycteropus
Æthiopiensis_) were likewise to be seen.
We met a number of native travellers and people going to market, who
saluted us in a cheerful manner, and bore testimony to the fact that we
were drawing near a larger place; and the neighbourhood of the town was
still further indicated by women who had come out to gather wood for the
supply of the market. Here I was agreeably surprised to see again my
noble old acquaintance of the Músgu country, the deléb-palm or “uray.”
At first a single specimen appeared towering with its proud fanlike
foliage over the numerous karáge-trees that still continued to retain
their predominant position in the vegetable kingdom; but when the clayey
soil gave way to sand, a large group met the eye, in close array, and
full of fruit. It was, however, entirely limited to this locality, and I
did not meet another specimen between this place and the town.
When we arrived in sight of the wall, my horseman changed his dress, and
put on a new glittering black Núpe tobe, in order to make his entrance
with greater _éclat_, while I was not a little pleased to meet again
here some travelling companions of mine, in whose company I had crossed
the Bénuwé on my journey to Ádamáwa, and who were once more on their way
to the east. We then entered the capital of Logón—Logón Bírni, or Kárnak
Lóggon, as it is called by the Shúwa, or Kárnak Lógone or Lóggene, as it
is called by the Kanúri. The town on this side (the north-western) has
only one gate; and it was so narrow that we were obliged to unload the
camel before we were able to pass through. The energy and activity of
this place is naturally concentrated on the eastern side towards the
river, where it has seven gates.
The interior of the town, where we entered it, had not a very animated
appearance. The cottages, belonging evidently to the poorer classes of
people, are in a wretched condition; and the only animation which the
scenery presented was due to a group of dúm-palms, towering over this
poor quarter from the north side. The character of the place improved,
however, as we advanced; the streets were tolerably large, and I was
struck with the appearance of the principal street, or déndal, which is
formed by the palace of the sultan or míyará, towards the south, and the
house of the Keghámma or Ibálaghwán, towards the north.
The entrance to the palace of the sultan—the “raána míyará” in the
kélakú Logón or language of Logón,—is towards the east, where there is
an open square, shaded by a few trees; here I was obliged to wait a long
time on horseback, while my quarters were getting ready, for etiquette
did not allow me to dismount. The sun was very powerful, and my
situation not exactly pleasant; but it afforded me some amusement to
observe the flights of falcons and other birds, who were nestling in the
top of a group of tall dúm-palms which towered above the walls of the
mosque opposite the palace.
I had also the pleasure of recognizing an old friend of Major Denham’s,
namely, Belál, the man who accompanied him as well on his expedition to
the Shárí as to Kánem. This man, whose real name was Mʿadi, and who was
an extremely amiable and good-humoured personage, with a disposition
akin to the character of Europeans, continued my friend during the
remainder of my stay in Bórnu. His errand here at present was to collect
the annual tribute which the ruler of the country of Logón has to pay to
the sheikh of Bórnu.
The quarters assigned to me were situated in the upper story of the
palace of the Ibálaghwán, which surprised me not a little by the
superior and even grand style of its architecture. This very spacious
palace consists of a number of wings inclosing small quadrangular
courtyards, and having an upper story of extensive apartments. The only
part which did not correspond with the magnificence of the rest of the
building, was the staircase, which was rather dark and inconvenient. My
own apartment was not less than thirty-five feet long, by fifteen wide,
and as many high, and received sufficient light from two semicircular
windows, which, of course, had no glass, but could be closed by means of
a shutter of reed. The ceiling was gable-shaped—rather a remarkable
phenomenon in these countries; it was filled out with thatchwork.
But not only were my quarters excellent, but the treatment I received
also was hospitable in the extreme; for I had scarcely taken possession
of my lodgings when a bowl of very excellent pudding made its
appearance. The thievish propensities of the people of Logón are very
remarkable; and the first intimation which I received of it was an
official caution given to me to beware of the slaves of my house.
Having recruited my strength a little, I went with Kashélla Mʿadi to pay
my compliments to the Ibálaghwán or Keghámma. We found him in the
apartment marked _a_ in the ground-plan. At first he was invisible,
sitting behind his matting curtain, “parpar” or “farfar,” which the
Háusa people, in humorous mood, call by the name of “munáfekí” (the
sinner), and which is made of a fine species of reed-grass; but he soon
allowed me to approach him. He was a tall, elderly man, of a cheerful
disposition, and smiling countenance, with nothing in his behaviour to
intimate that he was not a free-born man; and certainly his position was
an eminent one, as he was the second person in this little kingdom, and
held an office corresponding to that of a prime minister or vizier. His
name is Herdége. Having made him a small present for himself, which was
rather insignificant, but which, as it consisted of a quantity of
articles, seemed to satisfy him, I showed him the present I intended to
make to his master. Poor as I was at the time, and destitute of means, I
had determined to give away my Turkish trowsers, of very fine brown
cloth, which I had scarcely ever worn, in order to pave my way in
advance; for besides this article I had only some small trifles to give,
such as shawls, knives, scissors, frankincense, and a few spices. The
keghámma having approved of my present, I immediately went with Mʿadi
Belál to pay my respects to the sultan, or rather Míyará himself.
The palace of the sultan is a very extensive building surrounded by a
wall fourteen feet in height, and corresponding to the height of the
house of the keghámma.